


Catching Your Eye

by JCMorrigan



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Everyone's Size is Variable, F/M, It Wasn't Just a Quip, Post-Canon, Really Dumb Pun in the Climax, Seriously If You're a Huge Werner Fan or Sympathizer You Might Not Want to Read This, Specter is Actually Psychic in This, Speculation of Everyone's Personalities, Speculation of Everyone's Powers, Trying to Emulate Old Animation Gags but Potentially Failing, Werner Werman is Evil, light shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCMorrigan/pseuds/JCMorrigan
Summary: It started with something as simple as a cake getting knocked off a table. Sometimes, that's all you need to unite two people in flirtation and fighting off danger together.





	Catching Your Eye

The Blind Specter wasn’t completely blind. Not one hundred percent. He did, after all, have eyes inset of the palms of his hands. They didn’t work in the usual sense. Most of the time, they left him in total blackness, forcing him to rely on other senses to get an idea of his surroundings. It helped, of course, that as a ghost, he could choose whether to be solid or insubstantial at any given time. He never needed to worry about bumping into anything when he could simply go intangible and let obstacles pass right through him.

            There were times that his eyes gave him brilliant pictures in full color, however. He was able to see every detail; it just often wasn’t of the place he was actually in, and it was never the time. The only time his eyes offered him visibility was when they were granting him the clairvoyant vibes that came and went, as fickle as the wind, showing him something that was to happen in the future, any time from a few moments ahead to years away.

            He had one such vision at the great celebration of Cuphead and Mugman’s destruction of the soul contracts of all of the Devil’s runaway debtors. The Phantom Express as a whole had to keep its schedule ferrying the dead from the realm of the living to the realm beyond (a role that had given the Devil jealousy and inspired him to force the hands of the crew in the first place). However, they could afford to lose one porter for a day. The Blind Specter found himself on an open field, among many jostling bodies that danced and skipped with joy now that they were free of the Devil’s obligations. Going solid for a moment, the Specter could feel the heat of the summer sun beating down. The smell of a freshly baked cake, courtesy of Baroness von Bon Bon, wafted through the air; the Specter had honed his olfactory faculties down to being able to tell that the icing was strawberry. All around, happy voices cheered and conversed. The Specter wondered where he should insert himself in the crowd; who should he speak to?

            In vivid color, the vision struck him. He could suddenly see the green of the grass, the energy of the dancers, and the sparkling candles (did candle fuses normally glow that brightly?) planted upon the cake, which was bright pink. All of a sudden, the incident happened. And it was only moments away.

            The Specter was offered a choice: should he stop it from happening? Should he warn the hapless victim? The event was to be relatively harmless, he thought, and the mess it would leave would be hilarious. But then again, one didn’t go to a party to laugh at others’ misfortunes. One went to a party to try and get in others’ good books, maybe make some friends. Besides, the glimpse he had gotten of the incident’s victim was quite stunning. She was beautiful, from head to fin.

            The Specter would save her from the humiliation, he decided.

            Swing music sounded over the field. The Stageplay couple was leading the dancing in a frenetic stomp. The two young brothers responsible for the celebration laughed as they tried to keep up. The Specter phased through them all, leaving only a skin-shivering chill in his wake, to get nearer to the table where the mountainous cake was stacked up.

            That was where Cala Maria danced in her own way. Lacking legs, she had mastered the art of walking on land by balancing on her tail fin, and she moved to the music by rocking her hips and swaying her arms. Her eyes shut in bliss as she let the joy of freedom surge through her.

            A pair of cold hands suddenly on her shoulders, and a strangely soothing voice in her ear coming from behind. “You’re going…to want to move to the left.”

            “Oh?” Cala replied, edging her way to where the Specter gently guided her with his hands. “Why?”

            “Because – “

            The Specter didn’t have to explain. Sally Stageplay’s husband had begun to spin her round and round, and when he let go of her hand, the overly enthusiastic Sally took off like a top, careening through the crowd with a high-pitched whizzing sound. She slammed hard into the cake table without even noticing, then spun away from it. The table was disrupted, knocking completely over and toppling the fifteen-layer cake onto the ground right where Cala had been dancing.

            “Oh!” Cala squeaked. “You saved me! But how did you know that was going to happen?”

            “Well, you see…”

            Before the Specter could get any further, the cake exploded with a reverberating BOOM. His vision had cut off before that had happened.

            Without thinking, he went solid at the noise. Strawberry icing coated him up and down, as it did Hilda Berg, Beppi, and a good two-thirds of Grim Matchstick. Cala was untouched.

            “I did…not see that coming,” the Specter admitted.

            Cala couldn’t help herself; she dragged a finger through the icing covering the Specter’s back, sending a shiver through him (and he thought he was immune to chills). She popped the finger into her mouth, savoring the strawberry taste. “Strawberry!” she laughed. “My favorite!”

            “WHAT just happened?” Hilda asked angrily, trying to wipe icing out of her dress before it could stain.

            “Well, it wasn’t my fault!” Sally huffed.

            “I think what HAPPENED,” Baroness von Bon Bon insisted as she stormed into the center of the fracas, “is that SOMEONE replaced one of my sparkler candles with a stick of DYNAMITE!”

            There was a silence throughout the crowd before a voice bearing a thick German accent piped up: “No! Someone replaced ALL your sparkler candles with sticks of dynamite!”

            “I KNEW IT!” von Bon Bon exclaimed as she pointed an accusatory finger at Werner Werman.

            “Wernerrrrrr!” Cuphead moaned. “Why would you do that?”

            “Because!” Werner huffed. “I haff already von the var against ze cats! And I haff von ze var against ze rats! I cannot be left vith no vars to vin! So I haff declared var against ze monster in ze room: zat CREATURE!” His index finger jabbed directly at Cala.

            “What did I ever do to you, huh?” Cala retorted.

            “Do not be fooled!” Werner insisted. “She may look like a beauty on ze outside, but she is a MONSTER! Her hair! It becomes a multitude of slithering, slimy snakes! And her eyes! Zey turn hapless innocents to stone! Zat is no siren mermaid! It is a terrible gorgon, and it must be slain! As I so attempted to do with heavy explosives!”

            “Hey, pal!” Mugman stepped in front of Werner, crossing his arms. “If you’re gonna talk to our friends like that, you’re gonna leave!”

            “Oh, yeah?” Werner replied, crossing his arms in return. “And who’s going to stop me?”

            This question was answered within seconds, as Brineybeard hoisted Werner up by the back of the neck and flung him in the air only for Psycarrot to blast him miles away with a single shot.

            “But what about the cake?” Weepy asked before bursting into tears.

            von Bon Bon hissed into a walkie-talkie: “All right, boys. Bring out the backup cake.”

            Soon, all celebration resumed. The Specter wiped himself clean of icing in two quick strokes.

            “I could’ve actually died if that cake fell on me!” Cala gasped. “You saved me from more than just an embarrassing icing splash! You saved my whole life! How can I thank you?”

            “You could…sell me your soul,” the Specter suggested.

            Hearing Cala’s gasp in horror, he realized his little joke hadn’t landed the way he wanted it to. “That was…an attempt at humor,” he said quickly. “Since we all…just got our souls back.”

            “You little rascal!” Cala harrumphed. “I guess I can see why you thought that would be funny.”

            “There is really…no need to thank me,” the Specter told her.

            “I still need to know how you knew it was gonna happen!” Cala insisted. “Can you see into the future or something?”  
            “Yes…” the Specter replied, “with these.” He held up both hands, opening the lids on his palms.

            “Ooooooh!” Cala gushed. “Those are some eyes, all right! I’d been wondering about that. I don’t mean to be rude, but I noticed you didn’t have any on your face. In any case, I’m glad you can see!”

            “I can’t,” the Specter quickly corrected.

            “Oh, no!” Cala gasped. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean – “

            The Specter waved his hands hurriedly to dispel her guilt. “Don’t…worry about it! I get it…all the time. I don’t need to see anything…anyway. The only time I see…is when my eyes show me…the future. Then…I get clear visions. I can see…that the cake is pink…that the sky is clear…and that you are beautiful.”

            “Oh, gosh,” Cala replied, circles of pink forming on her cheeks. “Can you see that I’m blushing?”

            “No…” the Specter admitted.

            “You’re quite a cutie too,” Cala admitted. “I always did like a guy with unusual eyes, seeing how I have unusual eyes of my very own.”

            “Oh?” the Specter asked. “How are your eyes…unusual?”

            “Well, you heard that little rat,” Cala said. “I’m more than meets the eye…if you’ll pardon the expression! I can freeze anyone solid with just a look if I want to! Though…maybe not you. I’ve never tried to freeze a ghost before.”

            “Do you…wish to try it?”  
            “Oh, gosh, no, not you! Not after you saved me, you little cutie!” She giggled. “I guess I am sort of a monster. But I’m a good-looking monster!”

            “There’s no shame…in being a monster,” the Specter reassured her. “If you hadn’t noticed…I’m a monster myself.” He grinned, showing off all his long teeth. “And I like being one.”

            “Us monsters gotta stick together, don’t you think?”  
            “Yes…that sounds good.”

            There was the sound of the clatter of a plate bearing something heavy settling onto the nearby table. “That’s the backup cake!” Cala announced. “Gosh, this one’s TWENTY layers! Why wasn’t this the first cake?”

            “It’s chocolate,” the Specter identified.

            Cala pouted. “I never did like chocolate as much as strawberry. Oh, well! You want I should get you a slice?”

            “I would like that…very much.”

            She tried to pass him a small plate, but his eyes went wide with the reception of another vision, causing him to drop plate and cake alike to the ground. He saw it in perfect clarity: the crashing waves of the sea. The emerging fin and the beast attached to it. Cala, giving her all, calling the creatures of the ocean to assist her as she transmuted into her gorgon appearance, shooting to petrify. The great-mawed beast overpowering her.

            The Specter swallowed hard.

            “Cutie?” Cala asked in concern. “What’s wrong?”

            “I have seen…another vision,” the Specter informed her. “Tomorrow…you will have a run-in…with a shark. It will not…end well for you.”

            Cala gasped. “No! I’m friends with all the sharks in my waters! Why would they turn against me?”

            “I…do not know.”

            “This is terrible!” Cala moaned. “What am I gonna do?”

            “Perhaps…calling on a friend would help?” the Specter suggested. “Now that you know the future…you can change it. I saw you…fight alone. If you do not fight alone…it will turn out differently.”

            “You know what?” Cala realized. “You’re right! And I know just who to ask!”

            He was already hoping. “Who would this…mystery friend…be?” he asked with already a rather smug grin crossing his face.

            She knew he knew. “You, silly,” she said as she tried to nudge his shoulder playfully only to find he’d gone intangible. “Oh! You can do that! Go all ghosty! That gives me a great idea!”

            “You should…tell me your plan,” the Specter encouraged.

            “I will,” Cala promised, “for a price. You gotta tell me your name first!”

            “I do not…have one,” the Specter told her. “They simply call me…the Blind Specter. What is yours?”

            “The name’s Cala Maria.”

            “Cala Maria,” the Specter repeated. “It is…as beautiful as you are.”

            “Thanks, cutie! I hope you don’t mind if I still call you ‘cutie.’”

            “Not at all. I should mention…I saw you fight as a gorgon. You looked…just as beautiful.”

            “Didn’t I tell you I would?” Cala laughed. “Okay, so here’s the plan…”

 

* * *

 

            The following day, at precisely noon, the shark arose from the waters, its jaws glistening with saliva as a thick tongue ran over its razor-sharp teeth. It panted hungrily as it looked up to the skies, where Cala loomed high overhead.

            “So you think you’re gonna be a bully!” Cala huffed. “Well, just try it!”

            She was alone. Perfect, her attacker thought. He would make short work of this.

            Cala let out a sudden breath, her mouth forming a perfectly circular O, and the Specter came riding out on it, grinning and spreading his hands before the shark.

            This was going to complicate things, the attacker thought.

            Eyeballs began to rain down from above, popping out of the Specter’s palms to be replaced by identical copies. “Gosh, cutie!” Cala remarked. “Those eyes can do more than see the future! Well, time for me to fry this big fish with my own!” She beckoned a pair of eels to her waist.

            The Specter wasn’t able to tell exactly what happened. He heard the crackle of electricity, and Cala gave a sharp cry of pain. At first, the Specter thought something had gone terribly wrong, and he turned, calling out, “Cala?”

            “I’m fine, cutie!” Cala’s voice now had a rugged edge to it that the Specter found he liked. “Just keep hitting him with all you got!” The snakes atop her head hissed. It was time to dance.

            Cala swirled around and around the shark, her eyes popping out borne by two snakes to carry her dangerous vision to the great beast. It was petrified for only a moment before shaking the stone off, cracking out like it was hatching from an egg. It surged for Cala again, only to be pummeled with more eyeballs from above. The Specter was really being a hindrance.

            Giving up on attacking with teeth alone, the shark resorted to a different tactic. Twin jets of flame erupted from its eyes.

            Cala yelped, patting out a couple small fires that had sprung up on her skin. “BAD fish!” she growled. “I’m gonna hang you out to dry!”

            The Specter suddenly became aware of an auditory anomaly. It simply didn’t make sense. Why did it sound like all of his extra eyes were falling onto a hollow metal surface? Suddenly struck with a thought, he dove down, intangibly phasing through the shark. Instead of being met with the slimy interior of the shark, he found himself in a spacious, clean-seeming environment. It wasn’t a fish at all, he realized. It was a vehicle!

            The noise of whirring and muttering brought him to the pilot. The Specter wrapped his arms around the offender from behind, zooming upward. As his captive struggled, the Specter felt upward and discovered a rather obvious escape-inducing lever. The shark’s jaw popped open, its tongue rolling out as a red carpet over the waters. And as the Specter brought his captive out on his parade of shame, bringing him into full view of Cala, he didn’t need to be told that it was…

            “WERNER WERMAN!” Cala gasped. “WHY, YOU LITTLE…I SHOULDA KNOWN I SMELLED A RAT!”

            “Get OFF me, you gruesome ghost!” Werner growled as he struggled to break the Specter’s grip.

            “This whole time…” the Specter realized, “it was…a tank…disguised as a shark. It was…a shark tank. That is…admittedly clever.”

            “Shark tank!” Cala laughed. “That IS clever!” Her expression lightened for a moment before it sank into rage once more.

            “I see you decided…not to give up hunting Cala,” the Specter observed. “Too bad you fell…right into our mousetrap.”

            “I vas not expecting two monsters instead of one!” Werman complained. “I had zought, once the likes of YOU showed up, perhaps I could kill two birds vith vone stone! You have not seen the last of me! I VILL vin zis var!”

            “You men and your wars!” Cala groaned. “You know one person against everybody else isn’t a war, don’t you? Well, to understand that, you’d have to have a brain in that head! It might as well be made of stone!”

            “I believe…you can…arrange that?” the Specter reminded her.

            “I sure can!” Cala confirmed. “Cutie, release that catch.”

            As the Specter let Werner go, Werner realized what was about to happen. He turned to bolt, but his feet just skidded haplessly over the carpet, which bunched up behind him, keeping him in place.

            The light from Cala’s stare enveloped him, freezing him with a panicked expression on his face. Cala picked up the statue that had been Werner, and with a display of incredible strength, she heaved him across the ocean; the Specter could barely hear him touch down miles away, where he skipped across the surface a few times before sinking with a plop. Knowing just how far she was able to throw Werner thoroughly impressed the Specter.

            “Well, I really owe you one now, cutie!” Cala remarked.

            “You owe me…nothing,” the Specter insisted.

            “Naw, come here!” Cala argued. “I want to give you at least a little something to thank you for saving me from that creep twice.”

            Curious as to what Cala had in mind, the Specter flitted to hover before her.

            “Make it so you can feel things first,” Cala advised. “So things won’t go right through you.”

            Confused, the Specter followed orders. “I have…”

            Cala pressed her lips to his cheek firmly, keeping them there for a solid ten seconds before releasing him with an exaggerated “MWWWAH!”

            The Specter hadn’t even realized he still had a heart to beat, but there it was, shooting right out of his chest and pounding in a visible heart shape outside of it as, unbeknownst to him, his entire body turned from blue to vivid crimson.

            “See you around, cutie?” Cala asked.

            The Specter was already floating lazily down to the ocean’s surface, barely able to form coherent words. “Yes…see…see you…see around…around you…”

            “I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Cala said. Then the sounds of the waters let the Specter know she had turned and dove in, headed for the deep, where she made her home.

            The Phantom Express could hardly do without a porter for more time than it had already gone, and the Specter knew it, so he forced himself to get up and fly back to the station where he knew T-Bone would be awaiting him impatiently with stopwatch in hand. His color faded back to blue as he sailed over the Inkwell Isles.

            As he journeyed, he was struck with yet another vision of the future; unlike the last few, this one was completely pleasant.

            The next time Cala would kiss him, it would be on the mouth.


End file.
